


indra's new job

by 49percentchanceofbees



Series: Telvura Crew [3]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/49percentchanceofbees/pseuds/49percentchanceofbees
Summary: Recently kicked off of both Omega and theTelvura'screw, Indra considers her future prospects.





	indra's new job

Indra couldn’t believe her dumbass crewmates had gotten her kicked off Omega. She’d split from the  _ Telvura _ shortly before whatever the others had done to piss Aria off so bad, but none of the heavily-armed individuals who’d come for her on the station had cared for that explanation. So she’d had to just kill them and catch the next shuttle out to some ass-end-of-nowhere colony world, cursing her former friends all the way.

It wasn’t like she’d actually  _ liked _ Omega much, but it was a convenient place to pick up jobs and commit random acts of violence, and she needed the income and the stress relief now more than ever.

The sad little bar in this pathetic excuse for a colony didn’t even serve ryncol, so there Indra was, downing shot after shot of some asari liquor that did absolutely nothing for her. There were no other customers. The inhabitants of this colony -- mostly humans, with a cadre of asari smugglers and a couple Pilgrimaging quarians -- acted like they’d never seen a krogan before. Maybe they hadn’t. Too bad; Indra wasn’t there to educate them on galactic diversity. She needed to pick up a couple jobs, make enough money to get her to a population center where she could get some proper merc work, Illium or Elysium perhaps. Hell, she could even go back to Council space now that she didn’t have to worry about Kaxel’s or Ria’s outstanding warrants.

Indra slammed her shot glass down on the bar so hard that it shattered. None of the shards made it through her thick skin, and the bartender looked too intimidated to ask her to pay for it. Time to stop drinking and go sniff out some credits; maybe the smugglers could use some muscle. 

A hanar had entered the bar, prompting more stares from the insular human barkeep, and now made a beeline for Indra. “If you will excuse this one’s forwardness, it deeply wishes to speak to you.”

“Gasbag,” Indra replied, amused by how the alien physically flinched at her rudeness. If there was one thing Indra and Kaxel had ever agreed on, it was mocking the hanar.

Still, the jellyfish proved more persistent than she’d expected. “This one has gone to great lengths to locate you. It must insist that you at least hear it out.”

“Insisting, are you?” Indra leaned back against the bar. “You and what army?”

The human barkeep decided now would be a wonderful time to be busy in the backroom. Maybe they were squeamish.

“This one would not be so foolish or so  _ rude _ as to threaten one of your kind with violence,” the hanar said. It offered Indra a printout. “However, there are credits involved for you.”

“You want to hire me? For what?” Indra took the printout. Blurry security cam footage, but she recognized herself tearing the head off a vorcha while, in the background, Kaxel looked directly into the camera, as she was wont to do. Indra remembered that job, a quiet robbery gone gorily wrong. “What’s this, a referral?”

“In a way, you are correct,” said the hanar. A tentacle delicately tapped Kaxel’s face. “This one wishes to locate this individual. The image suggests that you were acquainted recently.”

“Kaxel?” Indra began to regret smashing her glass. She had a feeling she was going to need another drink. “What do you want with her? If she jilted you, I’ll tell you now she’s not worth the hassle. I’d pay to be rid of her.”

“So would this one,” said the hanar. Was there something dark in its tone? No, impossible. The stupid lumps couldn’t manage anything but “nasal.” “If you are aware of Kaxel Herren’s whereabouts, this one would like to hire you to kill her.”

The bartender still hadn’t come back, so Indra reached over the bar, grabbed a bottle at random, broke off the top, and started drinking. “Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’ll tell you whether it matters when you tell me why.”  _ Hope this idiot’s not seeking revenge for something Kax and I did together.  _ That would be a fun bit of irony.

“Kaxel Herren caused the destruction of a temple of the Enkindlers on Kahje.”

“Oh, I know. She never shuts up about it.”

The hanar’s tentacles twitched. “Yes. This one had loved ones who died in the explosion. This one wishes to honor them by causing the death of their killer.”

“And ‘this one’ can’t do its own dirty work.” Indra finished her bottle. Did humans really drink this swill? Varren piss had a higher alcohol content.

“Does this motive ‘matter,’ then?” the hanar asked. There was almost an edge in its voice. “Would you be so kind as to take the job?”

“What’s the pay?”

The hanar named a figure. Indra blinked. She never would’ve thought Kaxel worth that much, alive or dead.

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” A month ago Indra would’ve turned down the job, no matter the money on the line. Or she would’ve taken it and she and Kaxel would’ve laughed all the way to the bank after faking the drell’s death. But they weren’t crewmates anymore.

“This one thanks you most profusely.” The hanar dipped its body in a little bow. “It will be in touch.”


End file.
